


On the QT

by Illusionist



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drama, F/M, Family Drama, Incest, M/M, Sexual Tension, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-13 00:00:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1205326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusionist/pseuds/Illusionist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing stays buried forever . . . especially when Loki is concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the QT

**Author's Note:**

> Happy reading.

 

  _ **Chapter One**_

 

It was a lovely day in April; sun shining bright with a gentle breeze, pleasant enough to tempt you to make light snacks and have a picnic next to the river. If Mom was here, Thor was pretty sure she would ask all of them to do just that. Dad would complain that he had work to do, Balder would say he had a date to go to, Loki would stay in his room and pretend he hadn't heard her at all, and, he . . ., well, he would want to watch the Super Bowl of course, but Mom would convince them anyway; Balder would bring Sofia, Loki and him would banter the whole time, throw some balls and Loki would showcase his latest magic tricks, and Mom would look at them with that proud smile on her face as though she was the luckiest woman alive to have such a wonderful family.

And now she was gone.

Thor still had trouble believing it. He had spent the whole night driving while Jane slept in the backseat. After reaching the town, they had no time but to go straight to the funeral. Even in the church, everything still seemed surreal. He knew Mom was gone, but he just couldn't feel it. He was sure many emotions were swimming inside him somewhere, but so far he couldn't feel any of them. He watched Dad and Balder as Jane took his hand in a comforting manner, but didn't say a word; She knew when not to say anything; one of her many gifts. What was there to say anyway? Everybody stayed silent throughout the whole thing. He remembered Sif and Fandral coming to him and saying condolences. He had no idea they were back in town. Maybe they had come to town for the funeral. Thor didn't remember asking. The whole morning was a blur.

Nothing felt real until they parked outside the house. Thor watched Dad, Balder and Sofia go inside as he and Jane got out of the car. He stepped on the porch, and then it him like a freight train, all the memories, all the times he had spent in this house, the scent of his Mom everywhere, her smile, her frown, her asking him to take care of Loki . . . and he just had to stop walking and take a deep breath.

"Thor?" Jane asked in a small voice, her small hand resting on his arm. He told her to go in; he'd come after a smoke. She didn't remind him that he didn't even have cigarettes; only nodded her head and gave him the few minutes he desperately needed.

Thor walked to the backyard and smiled as he saw the swing. He couldn't believe Mom and Dad had still kept the old damned thing. Thor had thought they would throw it out the moment all of the boys left the house. Thor and Balder weren't exactly big fans, but Loki loved the swing. When they were younger, he'd always ask Thor to push the swing higher and higher - 'make me fly Thor', Loki would always ask - and Thor would oblige. That was how Loki fell and broke his head. He spent two days in the hospital, and Thor was grounded for a week. Dad never let Loki sit on it again, but Loki never stopped loving it. He even once asked Balder to paint it yellow and green, and Thor had to admit it looked pretty good. Loki would spend nights at his window, looking at the blasted thing with such longing that Thor would feel a twist in his gut. He never stopped blaming himself for what happened.

It looked old and useless now, but Thor could still see the green and yellow here and there. He calculated the chance of it breaking if he sat on it – they were pretty high – shrugged his shoulders and sat anyway. The bloody thing creaked dangerously for a few seconds before quieting down. He spent the next five minutes staring at the brick wall in front of him which belonged to Mr. Lannister's house. From the state of the place, he didn't live there anymore. Was he dead? Had he moved? Thor had no idea. They used to hate him; Balder, Loki, him, Sif, Hogan, Fandral and Volstagg; all of them hated his guts.  Lannister was a mean, old man; he'd use every single opportunity to ruin their fun. He once punctured Loki's bicycle. He should have known better. Loki responded in kind by drawing a three headed monster on the wall with Lannister's name under it.

The drawing was still on it.

And it still looked amazing.

Thor was surprised by the tears that fell down his cheeks unexpectedly; some of them falling down on the dust and grass with a silent thump. He missed his Mom. He missed her out of the blue, and there was no cure for it. There would never be a cure for it, and that was the hardest part of it. He would never see her smile, hear her talk, and that felt almost too painful to bear. Granted, he hadn't seen her for the past couple of months, not after Dad's Birthday, but the thing about mothers was, their mere existence was comfort enough, and now he would be bereft of that forever.

He wiped his cheeks as he stood up and then wiped the dust off his suit. Crying and untidiness were two things that were never tolerated in their house, not even after their mother's funeral.

Thor circled around the house slowly, careful not to remember any more memories. He had to look composed now. He had to be strong. That was their family motto, and he had to look strong for Jane, for Dad, for Balder, and for himself. Mom would want him to be strong. He nodded to him as he opened the white door and walked it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was eerily quiet inside the house, which didn't seem to be a good sign. Funeral or not, his family wasn't exactly famous for their silence, but then again, they had never lost anyone important to them . . . like this. It was possible –

"Loki?" Thor realized he had called the name only after he heard his own voice echo in the silence of the living room, and sure enough, Loki was leaning on the wall next to the stairs leading to the bed rooms upstairs. The past two years hadn't changed him much. His hair wasn't as long as it used to be - he had probably outgrown his rebellious desires - and the suit actually made him look older than twenty. For a second, he thought his grief and twisted mind had conjured up the image, but a look back to the living room and everyone's aghast faces proved that Loki, indeed, was there.

"Thor?" Loki answered back with the smallest of smirks playing on his lips. When they were younger, he would always imitate everyone's intonations to annoy them. Apparently, he hadn't still outgrown that habit.

Thor stayed where he was, not knowing what to do or say. He honestly hadn't expected Loki to show up. He knew Mom was probably the only person left in the family Loki still had some feelings for, but too many tragic things had happened in the past couple of years, and nobody had any news – nothing, nada, zilch – of Loki in the past two years. Thor wasn't even sure how Loki had found out about Mom's death.

"Lunch is ready." Thor heard Selena, the maid who had lived with them since they were children, say from the doorway, and everybody stood up to go to the dining room. Maybe Thor was imagining things, but it seemed as though all the family was making extra effort not to make any eye contact with Loki who was still leaning on the wall with arms crossed over his chest.

Not Jane though. She lingered at the door way for a second before turning around and walking towards them. Thor wasn't proud of thinking it, but he was afraid of Jane meeting Loki to death. He didn't want to be cruel or anything, but any sane man who remotely knew Loki had the perfect right to be afraid of Loki.

Especially Thor.

Not Jane though. She didn't know anything about him beyond the fact that Thor had an adopted brother who had cut off ties with the family, and the polite girl that she was, here she was, trying to make conversation with the most dangerous man in the household.

With the ugliest secrets.

"Hello, I'm Jane. Umm, Thor's girlfriend."

Loki finally untangled his arms and moved a step towards her, all charming smile and twinkling eyes.

"Jane, a pleasure to meet you." Loki firmly took her hand and tilted his head the way he always did when he wanted to assess a new situation and scheme a new plan. This wasn't going to end well.

 Jane gave both of them a small smile before turning around and walking to the dining room, probably trying to give them the space she thought they needed.

Which they absolutely did not. 

Loki wasted no time to step towards him – much closer than personal space allowed – locked eyes with him for a split second with that smirk still on his lips, as thought promising him a sea of upcoming disasters , and turned around and walked to the dining room the way he always did and Dad hated and thought _feminine._

Everybody was already seated at the table with their coats on. The black was in sharp contrast with all the bright colors in the house. Mom always loved colors, which was why Loki always wore black to annoy the hell out of her. She never minded though; always ruffled his hair and told him black looked good on him.

"Sit down, Thor. Dad wants to say grace."

Thor snapped out of his thoughts, nodded his head and moved to his usual seat. Jane was sitting in Mom's seat, and Thor thought it was fitting in a very strange way: they both had angelic features and virtuous manners.

Dad was at the head of the table, Balder and Sofia in Front of him and Jane, and Loki at the end of the table. Thor dared risking a glance at his younger brother, but he seemed busy staring at the chicken casserole with no particular expression on his face.

They all held hands before Dad began the grace. The brothers used to hate this part, especially the holding hand parts, but Mom always insisted, and now it only seemed right to do what she wanted.

For a moment, he thought Loki would refuse taking his hand – making scene was the last thing they needed – but Loki let Thor take his hand, and his fingers were as cold as they always had been. Dad voice caught a bit when he prayed for Mom, and Jane squeezed his hand, but Loki's hand stayed limb throughout the grace with the blank expression still on his face.

Thor couldn't help but think that a blank faced Loki was a dangerous Loki. Well, to be fair, any kind of Loki was a dangerous Loki.

While eating the soup, which was as delicious as it always had been – Selena's cooking skills were one of the happy memories of his childhood - Thor couldn't help but steal glances at Loki, waiting for some spark of disaster to appear.  He was so nervous, he couldn't even pay attention to how much he was eating. Yet, he had to admit this stress was a pleasant distraction from the sluggish pain feeling he experienced every time he remembered Mom was never going to be with them again. Anyway, he was used to this kind of stress. He had endured too many stressful family lunches and dinners to be truly worried about this one. Miraculously enough, Loki seemed to want to behave too, though Thor wasn't completely sure about it.

Sofia and Jane began to chit chat quietly and a bit of tension evaporated from the table. Balder even dared asking him about how the firm was going, and Thor tried to come up with some satisfactory answers. He knew Dad was listening to every uttered word. That was when Jane made the mistake of turning her head and asking Loki, "So, you're not with anybody right now?"

Thor could almost hear every one take in a deep breath except Loki who smiled at Jane in a way that showed he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

Thor braced himself for the onslaught, but to his disbelief, Loki only shook his head, gave Jane a mysterious smile and said, "Not at the moment. Busy with some . . . work stuff." Thor knew he wasn't the only surprised one to see Loki passing up a perfect opportunity to taunt the family with his sharp tongue and bemoan the injustice of his life, but maybe . . . maybe he really was trying for Mom.

The room fell silent again. Jane had no idea what had just happened, but she had sensed enough trouble not to ask any more questions. The room stayed silent for fifteen more minutes. In the middle of serving the chicken, Loki drew his chair closer to the table and rested his elbows on either side of his plate. Thor knew that position, he knew that position very well; the position of a lawyer in court who was going to begin a lengthy, lethal onslaught with no care of the consequences.

A part of him was tempted to get up and drag Loki away from the table before anything disastrous happened, while another masochistic part of him couldn't help but twitch in painful delight. In some bizarre insane way, he had missed Loki like this.

"So Jane, do you like our family so far?" Loki asked Jane with a predatory smile on his face. Jane, blissfully ignorant of the real meaning of the question, nodded her head with a small smile. "Yes, everyone's . . . great."

"Great. Sure, sure. You know Balder and Sofia are university professors, right? Dad's real proud of them. Why wouldn't he? They're the perfect couple."

Thor looked at their Dad, but he was looking at his plate, expertly pretending not to have heard his youngest son's words. Jane didn't know what to say; she just kept nodding her head; Balder and Sofia looked frustrated, but not enough to say anything . . . yet.

"They're so open-minded. All educated and learned. I'm so proud to be a part of this family, but then there was the case of me coming out, you know? Oh, you look surprised, Jane. Hadn't Thor told you about that? Hmm, he must have felt ashamed."

Thor refused to look at Loki and take the bait. He was familiar with the little trickster's tricks well. Still, it didn't mean the words didn't hurt.

Loki went on like a girl gossiping about her favorite celebrity. Thor had no doubt he was immensely enjoying himself. "Anyway, let me tell you they weren't so open minded then. If I remember correctly," Loki paused for a second, pretending theatrically as though he was trying to remember, " Balder resorted to physical force. Who would have thought such a gentle soul could be capable of that? I mean, look at that serene golden face."

"You kissed the Senator' son in the middle of the party we all had tried to arrange for six months!" Balder finally snapped at Loki, face red with anger, clutching the knife and fork in his fists. "I had to drag you to the room to stop you from ruining everything! You couldn't come out like a normal teenager, could you?"

"Normal teenager?" Loki sneakered, "Is that why your lovely friends always called me a freak?"

Dad was still pretending not to hear anything, though Thor wasn't sure if the old man could keep up the act for long. Thor wasn't even sure how Dad had tolerated this so far. Balder was still red with anger, and Sofia looked scared Balder might say something he'd regret later. Balder was indeed a gentle soul, but Loki had the uncanny ability to bring out the worst in everybody.

Jane looked pale and flustered, her food forgotten in front of her. Thor couldn't blame her much; she had never seen this side of the family.

 And Loki . . . it looked like he had just started to have fun.

"I was so afraid of Balder and Dad, I had to take refuge in Sofia's parents' place, but then they kicked me out of their house."

"You tried to sleep with my brother." Sofia was trying hard not to scream as she uttered the words through gritted teeth.

"He wasn't unwilling."

"That's not what he said."

"Of course it isn't," Loki raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, which made Sonia angrier than she already was, but she only took a deep breath and leaned back on her chair, years of practice with situations like this coming to her aid.

"Why do you have to make everything about you? Give it a break, Loki. It's . . . Mom's funeral."

"Should we make it about you, Balder? Do you want me to talk about your affair with your lovely neighbor? What was her name? Louise? She was _pretty_."

Balder slammed the fork on the table, but refused to answer Loki.

"Do you want me to talk about Thor? Fine, let's talk about Thor. Did you know, Jane, he actually punched me in the face in the school yard after he found out I'm you know  . . . a _pervert_. Cause he was on some football camp when I kissed the _Senator' boy_ , and came to see his lovely friends had painted faggot on his little brother's locker. I'm not saying he's abusive or anything. You don't have to worry. He always liked _girls._ "

Jane only bit her lips out of sheer nervousness. She was probably expecting Thor to throw a tantrum – one of those he was so famous for – but Thor stayed calm. He wasn't feeling any sort of anger, just an extreme sense of sadness mixed with a bit of shame. Loki's sexuality wasn't the reason why he had punched Loki that day – even though Loki had shamelessly flirted with one of the jocks in the middle of the freaking yard; he was practically asking for it – and he was absolutely sure Loki knew the real reason too.

Loki was looking at him, Thor was sure, but he refused to look up. No, he was _not_ going to take the bait.

"Why are we having this old conversation again, Loki?" Dad finally broke his silence and looked up at his son. He didn't look angry or even frustrated. He just looked tired, the face of a man who had just lost the love of his life, the face of a man who was watching his family fall apart without the existence of the peace maker.

Loki didn't seem to notice the expression, and if he did, he didn't care much. "But Dad, I don't want Jane to form any wrong opinions about us. I'm just giving her important data." Loki had the audacity to look at Jane like he was helping her a great deal. "She deserves to know the truth, doesn't she? After all, that's what you said after you told me I'm your bastard son. _I deserve the truth._ "

"Loki, enough." Balder spoke up, but there was no heat behind his words. Most probably, there was no way of silencing the youngest brother without resorting to force, which Thor suspected was exactly what Loki was striving for; just to prove a silly point.

"Oh, but I've only started."

"Listen to your brother." Dad's voice was broken. Thor looked at him and stared at the bags under those eyes. He'd never seen Dad like this before.

"Tell the truth, you always say, _Dad._ I just want to uphold our family values."

Dad looked at Loki then, and was that fear in Dad's eyes. Why would he be afraid?

"Loki," His voice had the familiar tone of warning to it whenever he talked with him, and just like the old times. Loki refused to obey. If anything, he leaned in closer on the table, as though inviting Dad to a dual.

"You haven't told them, have you? They have no clue."

"About what, Dad?" Thor asked his Dad with a touch of worry in his voice, because he knew Loki well; he knew that look of vengeance in those green eyes, and he certainly knew that it usually brought pain and despair.

"Not now Loki." Dad's voice was louder this time, which only made Loki all the more eager to say whatever secret it was he had found out about.

"For people who claim to be family lovers, you are blissfully ignorant." Loki was looking at him, throwing Thor's words back at him in a skillfully taunting manner. When they were younger, Loki always hated it when Thor talked about family values. Nothing had changed much, it seemed. Not that Thor was really surprised by it.

"Mom was sick."

Nobody said a word. They just stared at Loki – except Dad who was looking down at his plate again, but this time more out of fury than sadness.

"She had cancer."

"What?" Thor and Balder asked simultaneously, not believing their ears.

"Yup, stage four thyroid cancer, and dear Dad here, let her slip away. No treatment, no nothing."

"What?"

"Oh my God."

"Is this true?" Thor asked louder than all the other voices in the room, his disbelieving eyes fixated on their Dad. Surely, it wasn't true. He had pictured Mom passing away peacefully in her sleep with a smile on her face, not in agony of cancer taking over her body, while her family was scattered all over the country.

Dad was only looking at Loki, ignoring everybody else's demands of explanation. "By the time we found out, it was already too late. She didn't want to spend her last days in hospitals. I respected her wishes."

"Because dying people are known for making the wisest decisions. And since when do you give a damn about people's wishes. Huh?" Loki was standing up now, palms flat on the table, head forward like a snake ready to attack.

"What good does bringing it up now does, son?"

"Nothing! Which is exactly my point. You could have told us. I don't know about these idiots, but I could have changed her mind, I _would_ have changed her mind." Loki's face was red with anger, long, pale fingers trembling on the table.

"No, Loki. I'm sorry she's gone, but nothing could change her mind. She didn't want any of you to know, because she didn't want you to suffer."

"Stop patronizing!" Loki was screaming now. "Is that what you tell yourself at night to sleep better? You know you killed her, right?"

"Stop it!" Dad was screaming equally loud. The glasses on the table were lightly shaking as the two voices got louder and louder, "I know you loved he –"

"You know _nothing_ about love, you old foo-"

"I know you miss her. You're upset you didn't get to see her an-"

"Because of you!"

"You feel guilty because you left?"

" _I_ left because you had made my life unbearable, and now Mom's gone because of you, you murderer!"

"Hold your tongue!"

"Or what?"

"You're still a child."

"You –" Loki actually made an attempt to jump over the table and grab at their Dad. Out of reflex, Thor jumped up too, and held Loki, dragging him backwards away from the table, but Loki was out of control, thrashing his hands around like a mad man, cursing Thor and Dad and the world. He almost sneaked out of his hands with his sheer force of will power and high adrenaline, but Thor held him down, slamming those slim shoulders on the carpeted floor. Up close, Thor could see the tears of anger on his sharp cheek bones, eyes out of focus as he screamed.

"Get your dirty hands off me." Loki pushed him away and Thor obliged. He seemed less angry than a few minutes ago, but not enough to stop saying obscenities to Dad under his breath. He looked up then and stared at Thor, green eyes filled with contempt as he sneakered, wiped his wet mouth with the back of his hand, and went to the stairs, stomping up the stairs like a wounded animal.

 There was silence for a few seconds before a door was slammed shut, rattling all the windows in the house.

Loki's signature mark.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Thor kept grumbling, but no, he was not going to sleep tonight. Usually he wasn't one of those people to stay up late and worry about his troubles. If he was, he'd most probably wouldn't have stayed alive to see his twenty – sixth Birthday,  but tonight was one of those rare night.

The bed was narrow, but he and Jane had somehow managed to fit in, with Jane ending up mostly on top of him. She was sound asleep though, with her head resting lightly on his chest. Thor couldn't blame her. She wasn't used to such upheaval. Even though Loki did not come out of his room for the rest of the day or for dinner, Thor could guess everybody was thinking about the thing he had said, which was most probably what he had intended to do.

Jane asked him a question or two about Loki after dinner, but Thor didn't want to answer. He wasn't really sure why. Well, that was a lie. He knew exactly why. He had never wanted to mix Loki with the rest of his life, specifically his private life. Thor wanted to keep Loki, his thoughts about Loki, his feelings about Loki, his . . . everything about Loki, locked up in a box away from the real world. He was always like that, even when they were younger, which was precisely why Loki hated him so much.

He grunted once more and decided to go downstairs and make himself a hot cup of milk. Loki used to be insomniac. Thor remembered Mom making him hot milk when they were little kids.

Mom . . .

He decided to think about absolutely nothing as he tried to untangle Jane and get up the old, creaky bed. Jane mumbled something under her breath before rolling over and falling asleep again. Thor looked at her for a few seconds before turning around and walking to the door. Opening it had a trick which he, thankfully, still remembered.

Thor shut the door slowly and turned around, his bare feet tingling on the cold hallway tiles. He wasn't surprised to see Loki's light still on. Thor squinted his eyes to see the hour on the wooden clock hanging on the wall.

3:30 AM.

Loki had always been a creature of the night. He and Loki practically grew up staying up all night either in Loki's room or Thor's. Dad tried to stop them at first, trying to make early risers out of them, but Loki had always been a sneaky little bastard; he'd always find a way into Thor's room, and Dad finally gave up and left them be.

Thor realized he had walked to Loki's room only after he grabbed the handle and turned it downwards. He stayed at the doorway frozen, not exactly knowing what to do. The sane thing to do was to turn around and walk downstairs, make his cup of hot milk, drink it, go back to Jane and sleep everything off.

But since he wasn't a sane man, and there were only few sane decisions he had made in his life, he pushed the door open and walked inside. Thor wasn't sure his brother had noticed him or not. He was sitting at his old desk next to the window, his back to him, staring at the darkness outside. Now that Mr. Lannister's house was empty, there wasn't much to look at from the window except for the swing.

"Came to help with my homework?" Loki asked without turning around. It was a bit of an inside joke between the two of them; the reply to their mom's queries of why they spent so much time together in each others' rooms. Nobody ever said anything, even though they all knew it was the most blatant lie in their family history – except maybe hiding that Loki was adopted - but that didn't really count as a lie, did it? Everyone knew Loki never did homework, and if he did, he wouldn't need Thor's help. Thor would probably need his. The best thing about their family was their ignored everybody and everything unless things became too dire. The unfortunate thing was everything always became too dire.

"Sure, that math question seems pretty hard." Thor replied as he moved to the wooden desk.

"Hard? Are you sure that's a word you want to use in a context that includes me?" Loki finally turned around and looked at him with raised eyebrows.

Thor suddenly paled and raised his hands in defeat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mea- "

"Relax. I know you never think before you talk. The important things never change."

Thor only shrugged his shoulders. He really hadn't meant it to make it sound like an innuendo, but his unconscious seemed to have other ideas.

Thor walked closer, and that was when he saw what Loki had been up doing.

Drawing Mom.

"Loki," Thor said as he tried to grab his shoulder in a comforting manner, but Loki turned the paper around and jumped out of his chair like a cat. Loki always hated it when people saw evidence that he, indeed, had human attributes.

Loki paced in his room for a bit before tiring and sitting down on the bed, elbows resting on his knees. He was still in his shirt front and pant suits, but the tie was loose and he was barefoot. He'd always hated shoes; probably had something to do with when Fandral secretly put a spider in his favorite trainers, and Loki unknowingly wore them.

Loki never forgave Fandral for that.

Not even after he dropped a lizard down his collar.

Thor hesitated for a few moments before joining Loki on the bed. It was almost funny how they were sitting on the bed the way they always sat on it, Loki closer to the wall and Thor closer to the door; Loki had always hated doors. He always thought monsters would come through doors, and Thor always chose the bed closer to the door to protect his younger brother.

 How simple those days used to be.

He wanted to ask about Mom; if it was true, and if it was, how had he found out about it, but a glance at Loki's face made him change his mind. Loki was a master of hiding expressions. People could never tell what he was thinking of or how he was feeling.

But Thor could:

Loki was devastated.

It was in his silence; in his refusal to taunt and tease; in his refrain from spilling secrets and making outrageous lies in front of Jane.

Thor knew it was a horrendous idea, but he extended his hands anyway, and rested his bigger palm on Loki's hands which was resting coldly on his thigh. Loki didn't say anything; he didn't even react. He just kept staring at the wall in front of him the way he'd been doing for the past couple of minutes.

Thor didn't remove his hand though. He even squeezed those bony fingers a little bit. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing. Thinking wasn't his strongest suit, as Loki always wisely pointed out, and he was only left with the option of doing what felt right, and right now, comforting Loki felt like the right thing to do. God knew why; considering all the things that had happened two years ago, he had every right to punch him in the face and break that delicate nose of his. Yet here he was, trying to soothe him and take the pain away, even though Loki always carried way too many pain for any kind of comfort to be possible. He wore pain like an armor; proudly, resiliently.

A tear fell on his hand and Loki stopped stroking the back of Loki's hand with his thump, and dragged his eyes from their entwined hands to him pale face. Yes, Loki was indeed crying.

"Loki," He whispered softly.

"Don't." Loki warned him as he stilled and bit his lower lip to stop any other tear from falling down his eyes. It reminded Thor too much of their childhood when Loki would grow scared every time somebody saw how him crying. He'd stay still, stare at the person witnessing the emotions with anger and accusation, and then run away to his room and then pretend it hadn't happened, and nobody ever dared mention how they had seen him cry – unless they had a death wish.

In a moment or two, Loki would probably sniff, frown, look at Thor with accusation, shove him backward and demand he left him alone. Thor didn't let him though. He didn't say anything; just freed their hands and then wrapped them around Loki's bony shoulders.

Loki didn't resist him even for one second. He just rested his head on Thor's right shoulder, facing the opposite wall so his face would be hidden from view, and let out the smallest of sobs before clutching two handfuls of Thor's T-shirt in his fists.

Thor only wrapped his hands more tightly around him, rested his chin on the junction of Loki's neck and shoulder and breathed in the familiar scent that was just Loki's.

They stayed like that for two minutes, or maybe two hours. Thor wasn't really sure about it. He really wasn't thinking. He wasn't really feeling either. It was one of the rare privileges of Loki's presence; everything stopped; some sort of suspension in time and space that Thor had grown addicted to and had missed so damn much in the past two years.

Loki finally sniffed and let go of Thor's crumpled T-shirt before moving away from him, shoulders hunched. Thor knew Loki didn't want him to say his face, but he did anyway. He hadn't cried much; his cheeks were dry, but there was such intense pain reflected in those green orbs that Thor couldn't help but to swallow and shake his head at Loki, as if begging him to stop hurting.

"Thor," Loki's voice was broken, and Thor couldn't help it; couldn't stop his own hands from cupping that strong jaw and kissing those sinfully red lips. It was like second nature. It probably _was_ second nature, considering all those times they had spent on this very bed, laughing, fighting, joking, talking, mocking, doing what they were doing right now: kissing like there was no tomorrow.

For all the ease they were kissing, lips moving effortlessly, hands in the right places, making the right noises, it was as though the past two years hadn't happened; as though it was yesterday that Loki –

Thor shook his head and pushed Loki down on the bed without realizing he was doing it. He wasn't going to think about the past. He wasn't going to think about the future. He wasn't going to think about anything. Period.

And Loki was making it quite easy for him with that wanton look on his face, adjusting a bit to make room for Thor between his legs.

Thor hovered above Loki for a few seconds, not touching him for some time; not because he was filled with doubt or he wanted to marvel at the moment, but because he was struck by how normal it felt to lie above him and stare at his face; how god damn right it felt.

He rested his palm on Loki's beating heart, surprised to find his own hands slightly trembling. Loki's fingers caressed his blonde hair before grabbing his neck and bringing his face down. Thor didn't kiss him though. Instead he lied on top of him, letting every inch of him touch the body beneath him and kissed that long neck; admittedly what he loved the best about Loki's body.

Loki grabbed his arms and ran his toe up and down Loki's calf, sending shivers up and down his spine.

Thor was a physical man. He wasn't prone to thinking when having sex, even if it was with someone he was in love with. He wasn't much into savoring the moment and reciting lyrics about love in his head, but it was different with Loki. He couldn't understand it well; he just knew with Loki it wasn't just sex; not that it was romantic love or any of that mumbo-jumbo. With Loki, it was like diving into life and feeling at home, and he desperately needed to feel it again: what it meant for the world to make sense without any struggle.

From the looks of it, Loki was feeling the same. Thor could tell by the way those long fingers trailed up and down his arms idly, as though Loki, himself, wasn't aware of how he was revering the body lying on top of him.

Loki wasn't exactly known for his patience, and after minutes of idly stroking arms and shoulders, he pushed his older brother away and sat on top of him, straddling his hips.

Thor couldn't help but grin. "You remember my favorite position after all."

"Don't look so smug." Loki deliberately wiggled. "There are few things I forget." There was a painful edge to his voice that Thor decided to ignore.

Loki moved his hips backward and forwards slowly, but Thor felt every movement. Things were taking a sexual turn fast. Not that he was going to complain. As a matter of fact, he was guilty of fantasizing about his younger brother sometimes while having sex with other people. Actually, he had done it so much that it had passed the phase of guilt and had just turned into a habit; a habit he adamantly refused to reflect upon.

Loki was in control now, and Thor could see he was enjoying it. The way he was removing his tie while at the same time making the most delicious frictions was making Thor hard fast. He didn't touch Loki though. He just rested his hands on the white blankets and looked at Loki; looked at how he threw the black tie away and began to unbutton his shirt front like the artist that he was. Not too fast; not too slow, just the way Thor liked it.

His skin was as pale as Thor remembered – and sometimes dreamed of – and his finger tips itched to touch it, but he didn't. He just lied there unmoving with a teasing smile on his face, knowing his unresponsiveness pissed Loki off to no end, and indeed, Loki twitched his lips the way he did when he was displeased.

He leaned down a bit then, and began to run his fingers underneath Thor's T-shirt in a teasing manner, which Thor had to admit worked well, but Loki wasn't still content. He tugged at the hem of the T-shirt, and Thor had no choice but to take it off, albeit with a little bit of difficulty.

Loki was staring at his chest, and Thor couldn't help but to smile with pride. He didn't know what passed through Loki's brain. Whatever it was, Loki seemed pleased by it. He leaned down then, and started to lick Thor's chest in earnest, and Thor had to clutch his brother's waste to deal with the sudden rush of pleasure, especially when Loki treated his nipples with extra skill, licking, sucking, biting blowing, just the way Thor liked it.

Getting rid of their pants wasn't an easy task, especially because they both seemed quite happy with Loki licking every inch of skin he could find and moaning while he did it, but things couldn't stay like that forever, and Loki finally straightened up, hips still straddling Thor's, hard-ons touching through clothes and sending waves through both their nerves.

Loki moved back a bit and tugged Thor's pants down, smiled when he realized Thor wasn't wearing any underwear. Thor had to hiss as the cold breeze hit his skin, and it was only when he realized the window was open. Loki loved the cold.

"I'm at a bit of disadvantage here." Thor said as he pointedly looked at Loki's half clothed form. His younger brother sighed dramatically before slowly getting of the bed, and standing next to the bed, purposefully standing out of his brother's arm reach.

Loki always moved like a cat, which was a bit ironical because Thor had always hated cats. The way he moved, the way he swayed his hips and grinned like a wicked witch . . ., Thor couldn't stop his heart from racing, especially when Loki came back to the bed. He didn't straddle his lips though, instead he sat on Thor's knees, effectively trapping his legs, leaned down and in one swift motion, took him in his mouth. He had to stifle a scream, more out of surprise than anything, but after a few licks and sucks, when everything became sufficiently wet and smooth, he started to moan, resting his right palm on the back of Loki's neck but didn't use any force, even though he knew Loki liked a bit of force.

Loki was good with his tongue – no surprise there – but Thor knew his younger brother inside and out; he knew Loki was holding back. He had always been selfish little thing. He'd never let anyone come without coming first, and was too proud to jerk himself off while sucking Thor. Thor knew Loki was waiting for Thor to do something about it, but Thor was feeling vengeful, especially after the disastrous lunch, and thought about teaching Loki a lesson, but Loki decided to play with his balls with those long fingers, and Thor had to change plans right and there.

He grabbed Loki's waist with both hands as soon as Loki let go of his prick with a loud 'pop' and turned them both around, with Loki underneath him once more.

Thor didn't really want to think of a word for what they were doing, but 'humping' kept popping up in his head; the worst part wasn't that they were acting like sex – deprived teenagers. The worst part was that they were quite enjoying themselves. It was a bit dry and painful at first, since they had no lube (though Thor suspected Loki's opinion would be different. He had always liked the painful part), but once things got wet with precum and spit, which was provided by Loki eagerly sucking Thor's fingers and Thor stroking Loki, experimenting with the familiar weight in his hands, Thor began to lose himself in the act. Loki did make things easier by lifting a leg and resting his calf on Thor's shoulders, making more room for both of them to move.

It was finished way too quickly for it to be labeled 'appropriate', but Thor didn't mind. He was feeling lighter and happier than he had felt in the past couple of months, and he sighed happily as he flopped down on the bed, head resting on the pillow and basking in the familiar scent of sex and Mom's washing soap.

He was half expecting Loki to get up and leave. For all his emotional neediness, the dark haired man hated any form of cuddling or after-sex talk. When they were younger, he'd always find an excuse to leave the bed (the most famous one was 'I have to pee.) but not tonight. He lied down next to him, and to Thor's pleasant surprise, entwined their fingers together much in the similar fashion Thor had done earlier.

They didn't say anything; they didn't even look at each other. Both just stared at the ceiling, listening to each other's heartbeats as they slowed down; minds blissfully blank.

 

**To Be Continued . . .**

 

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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